


The Falling Titan

by Zai42



Series: Like Colors, If Colors Hated Me [2]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast), The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Breathplay, Drowning, Other, Size Kink, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25142452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/pseuds/Zai42
Summary: Zolf's relationship with the sea has always been strained.
Relationships: Zolf Smith/Michael "Mike" Crew, Zolf Smith/The Vast
Series: Like Colors, If Colors Hated Me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821226
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	The Falling Titan

The man before Zolf tilts his head, regards him with pale, colorless eyes. “You,” he says, “are very unlucky indeed.”

Zolf snorts. “Don’t I know it,” he says gruffly, and tries to brush by the man.

The man seizes his arm in an uncompromising grip, surprising given his small stature. “The Lonely,” he says, “the End, the Buried... and us, of course.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Zolf starts to say, but suddenly he can’t speak, his lungs screaming like he’s submerged in a storming sea. He chokes, stumbling a step backwards; beneath him, the earth shifts, suddenly sodden sand instead of solid ground, the ocean lapping hungrily at his ankles. The man crowds into his space, regarding him with a small smile. Up close, Zolf notices the lightning bolt scar tissue running up the side of his face, spiralling along his arm as he reaches out, splays a hand over Zolf’s chest, and shoves him backwards, smiling beatifically.

Zolf falls, and instead of splashing into shallows he is swallowed, a stream of bubbles issuing from his mouth as he flails and tries to scream. Beneath him, the sea is deep and dark; above him the sky grows smaller and smaller; around him there is an endless chasm of void, vast and empty. He loses track of which way is up.

His lungs scream for air.

He takes a breath.

The pain of drowning doesn’t come.

It is a different pain, a roaring, stretching thunderbolt of agony, and now when Zolf screams it is tiny and insignificant. There is something Vast pressing against him on all sides, demanding entry, and Zolf knows, with utter certainty, that it will split him apart if he lets it in. He knows, too, that he will be crushed into dust if he doesn’t.

He opens his mouth, and infinity rushes in.


End file.
